Mangels Andy - The Good That Men Do

A pause. Then Phlox spoke again: Computer, record that death occurred at nineteen-hundred and thirty-three hours, fourteen February, 2155.

Feeling unaccountably calmed by the knowledge that the deed had finally been done, Trip opened his eyes. He looked up again at his reflection, which looked bizarre and funhouse-distorted in the curved, too-close metal ceiling of the chamber. He could see that the Denobulan physician had certainly managed to make him look gruesome, in spite of the haste with which hed had to work. A large, livid burn snaked down his neck, and a profusion of other wounds and smudges covered both his flesh and his torn uniform.

So this is what its like to be dead, he thought, really trying on the idea for the first time. Funny. Doesnt hurt quite as much as I thought it would.

The main events in this book take place early in 2155, just after the crew of the Enterprise stops the xenophobic group Terra Prime from destroying Starfleet Command (Demons and Terra Prime).

People sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on their behalf.

George Orwell (19031950)

He that would live in peace and at ease must not speak all he knows or all he sees.

Benjamin Franklin (17061790)

All war is deception.

Sun Tzu (5th century B.C.)

The future is up for grabs. It belongs to any and all who will take the risk.

Robert Anton Wilson (1932 )

The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interrd with their bones.

William Shakespeare (15641616)

The early twenty-fifth century
Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana

ALTHOUGH LIGHT-YEARS SEPARATED HIM from his homeworld, the cool rain falling through the moss-covered trees reminded Nog of Ferenginar. The smell was different here, of course; the Louisiana swamps were redolent with decay and rot, and the lukewarm rainfalling at not quite a glebbening level yet, but closeadded a dampness that made the humid air almost palpably pungent.

Nog stepped wide to avoid a greasy-looking puddle, and almost immediately regretted it as a sharp twinge went up his hyperextended left leg. Making sure the pack he carried slung over his shoulder was secure, he crouched down onto his right knee, his fingers deftly massaging the pained left leg.

It seemed strange to him that the newer leg, regrown from his own tissues years ago to replace the biosynthetic limb hed needed because of an injury suffered during the Dominion War, should always be the one that gave him trouble. Of course, a few of his other joints suffered aches and pains as wellit was all just part of the process of getting olderbut his new left leg should have felt better, not worse, than either his natural limbs or the now-discarded biosynthetic one. His doctors had examined him several times in recent years, but they could never find anything inherently wrong with the new leg, and always ended up telling him that he probably just favored it differently than the bionic part hed spent so many years getting used to, thus creating unfamiliar stressor points on his left side.

Nog stood, peering up the path before him and thinking about his friend. Why did he choose to make his home so far off the beaten track? He imagined young Jennifer probably didnt relish playing in the yard if he even has a yard since hew-mons generally seemed to have an aversion to muck and dampness.

Another dozen meters, and as he rounded a bend in the pathway, he saw the two-story house directly ahead. Soft light was visible through several round-topped windows, and a wisp of smoke curled out of a chimney on the homes southernmost wall, drifting lazily up through the damp twilight air. The fact that a fire was burning and lights were on gave Nog hope; he wanted to surprise his old friend, and hadnt contacted him to let him know he was coming.

The murky pathway ended at the edge of a small expanse of open, well-tended lawn, and Nog stepped onto a cobblestone walkway that meandered through the green on its way toward the homes front door. He wondered idly if Jake had helped create the walkway.

Nog stood in front of the door, his hand raised and poised to knock. He noticed that Jake didnt appear to have any other kind of signaling device mounted on or near the door, and wondered when his old friend had become such a Luddite. No com panel, no security deviceit was so different from what Nog was used to.

He rapped his knuckles loudly against the door four times, then took a step back. He heard somethingor someonestirring inside, then heard indistinct muttering. The sound made his heart leap; although he couldnt make out what was being said, it was the speaker that mattered, not the speech.

The door cracked open several centimeters, and light spilled out from inside, momentarily silhouetting the tall, dark-skinned man who stood there peering out.

Greetings, old man, Nog said, remembering what Benjamin Sisko used to call Dax. It seemed somehow appropriate now, here, as he saw his friends eyes widen in delighted surprise.

Nog! Jake Siskos voice cracked slightly as he shouted his friends name, and then he opened the door wide, holding his arms out.

Nog stepped forward, opening his own arms and clasping them around Jakes torso. It was only after he had hugged his friend for several seconds that he remembered that he was soaking wet. He pulled back, looking up at Jake.

I wasnt sure youd want to see me, Nog said.

Jakes expression changed instantlywas it bemusement registering there?and he good-naturedly whacked the Ferengi on his shoulder with the palm of his hand. Right. Whatever. Bygones, Nog.